“You must always be aware, my serpentine friend, that the spirits all around us speak to us every day. For some, it is easy enough to hear them, for others, the journey is difficult.”
The wise old woman stares off into the distant savannah beyond their village home. Behind her, Arya stares off as well, a half-forgotten trauma tickling at the back of her mind.
“It must have been so easy for you,” Arya says. “Being here. In this place. I was always a city girl, always listening to my Uncle. I was never really one for spirituality.”
“Spirituality, physicality, it took me time to realize that these things are not so different.” The old woman pokes her in the chest with her cane. “Many say the spirit is in the heart, where the blood goes throughout the body, yes? But others say the spirit is here,” she points to her own head, “where our thoughts tell the rest of us how to act. Still more think it lies down here…” she slides the cane down Arya’s body, just below her navel. “Here, where our desires churn and tell the brain what they want, to tell the heart to pursue goals and dreams. But this is not the whole truth.”
She sighs, holding herself up with both hands on the cane. “The spirit is everywhere. It is in everything, and some people find it differently. What matters is that you don’t squander what you have.”
“But, I was groomed to be a weapon… I hurt people. What use am I spiritually, if I’m just someone’s sword.”
“Sword, arrow, tooth, claw, it is all the same, look…” The old woman turns around.
Arya looks over the shoulder. Two of the children in the village wrestle each other on the ground. Arya advances, but the old woman places her cane in the way, stopping the snake.
The two kids pick themselves up, laughing and hugging before they run off once more to play some other game. “We all have bodies. We all have spirits. Our bodies can be weapons, or instruments for play. We can scream hate to each other, or sing. And a song is what we make of it, nothing more, and nothing less. It is our spirits that determine what music means to us.”
Arya sighs. “Well, I don’t know about music, but I think I get what you’re saying. I don’t have to be my Uncle’s weapon. I can use my gifts for good and-”
“Oh, you have your youth still. You think you know everything. The difference between the young and the old is that the old doesn’t have to pretend to know everything. Such a shame that people die young, even when they wear the mask of the old,” She laughs.
Arya smiles a little at that. “I know a few people like that. But what does this have to do with songs, again?”
“Child, child… have you already forgotten your own song? The song of death and hatred? I may be old, but I hear it in those nights when you curl up in your sleep. It is your Uncle’s song, is it not…?”
“My…” Arya shivers all over, slithering away. “No, I… I don’t know…” but the flashes come to her mind, the old record player, her uncle’s growling hums, the visions of red, the explosion of pleasure, the steam from the room, Star and Uma.
Arya snaps awake the incessant buzzing still assaulting her body. She groans, flopping onto her back as she puts all her strength against the zip ties on her wrists. She grits her teeth, groaning in her exertion. “C… come on, M… Mouse! I’m done, I give up. You can do whatever the hell you want. Just let me out of here!”
But Mouse does not respond.
“Star, that’s your name, right? I’ll leave Mouse alone for good. I won’t see her again. I just want to leave now, before Jay or anyone else gets in here and sees us.”
But Star does not respond, either.
Arya blinks, and tilts her head back, wondering just what is happening between the two. When she sees them, they sit up straight, their eyes wide and their mouths trembling. She couldn’t hear it before, but now, Arya can’t help but hear the muttering coming from both of them. It’s a confused state of babel, as if they had just met with something they couldn’t wrap their minds behind. But through it all, there is no fear in their eyes, just surprise, and excitement.
“It was a song with an evil spirit that was put into you, my friend. But you need to put in a song with a good intent in its place.”
She remembers the old woman’s words, that wise woman who might as well be an entire world and lifetime away from this palace of physical delights, with music thumping in the background from the dance hall, thundering an old song, discordant and angry and with no rhyme or reason to it.
It is a song that her Uncle used to play for her. She remembers it now, and when she does, she finds herself drifting off.
Realizing this, Arya shakes her head. “F… fucking hell, what? What’s happening to me…?”
“That’s a good girl, Arya,” her uncle growls, looming over her, adjusting his hat. “Just listen to the music, and keep your eyes on Mr. Stanley here.”
“B… boss, you can’t… I don’t wanna.
“S… shh… it’s okay, Stan. She’s just a little girl. What harm can she do to you… look at her, and her cute little eyes…” He grabs the man, fingers peeling back his lids. “Don’t you just want to stare deep into those.”
“That’s right, Arya, look at him. Do you recognize him?”
The young Arya shakes her head.
“Good, girl, because whoever you look at when you hear this song, you don’t know them. You don’t care about them. They’re just in your way… and what happens when someone’s in your way…?”
A lunge, followed by the pressure, then the taste of fur, skin,a nd blood, and the rush of venom.
The man collapses to the floor, crying as he holds his shoulder.
“Good girl, very good girl… I think we’re finally ready… you’ll be a great asset, just like your dear old dad.”

“Remember, Arya, the song is only as evil as you make it. Listen, now, child, to this song…”
The wise woman’s words fill Arya, weaving through her body as the hums of the village come to her ears. Had she heard this tune before? Had they played this for her when she danced in the moonlight and the fire?
When she danced, she danced not with herself, but she was there. Their bodies slide together as the song holds her, keeps her safe, presses her up against it, and whipsers the tune into her ear.
Arya hums the song, letting her recollection drown out the flashes of bad memory. She may be stuck to these zip ties, forgotten by the friends who had been struck by her hypnotic gaze—a potent weapon nurtured by her Uncle. She hates that is what she became, but that hate disappears as she continues her humming. She pushes herself up to some semblance of a sitting position, and she glances at the two women, the first of which is the horse, Star.

Star sits in the corner of her room, watching her anime and hugging her pillow close. Her closest friends had abandoned her, calling her a geek and a freak. She should have cared more about what they thought, but she didn’t. She didn’t need them, she just needed what made her feel good, and what made her feel good were her heroes and heroines from her favorite stories. Each of them, men and women, had wonderful bodies. How could her friends think they were just kid stuff?
I doesn’t matter what they think. Because Star knows she’s going to become beautiful, powerful, and desirable. That’s why she joined the sports teams, despite being unfit at first. That’s why she ran every morning, day and night. That’s why she spent her free time not improving her body delving deeper into the worlds of her fantasy.
“You really seem to like yourself,” the internet chat says. “And you don’t care what others think, despite coming on here seeking a good time. Maybe you should join this society I’m a part of. Here’s a link.”
Star is about to join when a soft humming hits her in the back of the ear. She looks over her shoulder, only to gasp at the sight she sees before her. Divine beauty, pure and simple, dancing to the beat of the song. It reaches out for the mare, and pulls her in close. She hugs it dearly, burying her face into the busom of this loving goddess.
Star’s smile grows as she leans back on the tile of the bathing room, panting, with tears rolling down her eyes as she smiles.
“Hey…!’ Arya hisses. “Over here!”
Star blinks, looking down at Arya with a puzzled gasp. She looks this way and that, not recognizing where, or who, she is for a moment. But she soon crawls over towards Arya, producing a knife.
She cuts the snake free, shaking her head and whispering to her. “I have no fucking… no fucking idea what you did, but could you do more?”
Arya slithers up, placing her hands upon Star’s shoulders. She continues her humming, and the horse closes her eyes, leaning back into the ethereal arms of the transcendental lover. It stroked over her body and nuzzled her, letting her know that everything was going to be okay. What she did wasn’t wrong. The direction her life took is but one of many avenues, and only this one led her here, to this very moment.
Arya grabs a hold of Uma, shaking her and whispering. “Please… Uma… wake up. You’re much worse off than her. I dont know what my stare will do to you…”
Uma still stares upwards, her nonsense speech now making more sense to the snake. It’s a harmony to the song, her evil song, her Uncle’s song. Sighing, Arya begins to chant the healing song once more, curling her tail around the rat’s body and holding her in close.
She looks over towards Star, who pulls her legs in close to her chest, sighing as she nestles her cheeks upon her knee. “I miss you guys, sometimes,” she says, “But then I wouldn’t have Mouse, if you hadn’t left me… made me an outcast.”
Arya shudders. Who knows exactly what her stare, her song, does to them, but when she worries, she thinks again of the time she experienced it for the first time, dancing among it in the starlight. She takes a deep breath, and pulls herself up, taking Mouse along with her. “Uma… Mouse, whoever you choose to be. Just, turn off your bombs,m alright? That’s all you have to do. You can… you can choose the life you want. I was stupid to suggest that it’s wrong, just because I don’t want it. People have their own lives all the time, as long as they aren’t hurting one.”
Uma blinks, looking at her a moment, befure she giggles and rolls her eyes back once more, humming the evil song louder.
“DAmmit!” Arya curses, singing loudly into the rat’s ear. She then begins to move to the beat, dancing with her in spirit and in body, her tail urging the somnambulist along as she makes the motions go.
And after a few bars of the dance, Uma’s hands clasp onto Arya’s sides, and she begins to dance with her friend, her eyes focusing on Arya, her smile becoming less ethereal, more real, and aimed directly at her.

Both Arya and Uma are transported, spiritually, to a transcendental state. “Sublime” would only just start to describe the wonders they feel. It is like being caressed by a lover from beyond space and time. The two of them melt away from all their worries, all of their concerns, all of their fears, and drift off into the sweet oblivion that comes from letting go.
“Let go, and let the music flow through you. This is the song you hear. Choice has nothing to do with it. You never truly had it. You’ve always been singing this song, and you’ve always been having this dance.”
Arya shakes her head. It throbs, and she groans, rubbing her eyes.
“No need to worry, little one. YOu’re safe now…” the soft hissing comes to her, a voice familiar, comforting, and terrifying. “Komodo and her friends thought they could hide you, and you learned a little trick, but all it took was playing the song over and over again, and now you’re back.”
Arya glances over to see the larger snake, dressed up in his nice shirt and tie, a snear spread across his mouth. “And the Pleasure Society is the perfect patsy for this. Not that it really matters. Just sleep, and enjoy yourself for now. The real fun is just about to begin…” 
His humming fills her mind, and that celestial lover is no longer there. Instead, there is a cold, dark hand, grasping at her throat, pulling her back into the darkness.
“Sometimes,” the old woman of the village says, “We find ourselves no longer dancing in the land, but fighting against the current of a stream. We are faced with a choice there… do we let the current take us? Or do we fight against it?”
“I’ve only fought for a short while,” Uma says. “But I’m already so tired of it.”
“That’s because you try swimming against the current. Try following it, and then you can make it to your destination.”
“What’s that, little girl? You got something to say to me?” Her uncle says, his face right in front of hers, his own eyes staring hers down. Those eyes… they penetrate beyond anything she has felt, yet she knows the truth.
“You have your mother’s eyes,” he says, “But your daddy’s killer instinct. If you had bee his brat alone, I’d never have given you a chance, and I would have never seen the fruits of your genetics. Who would have thought, the baby girl of my baby sister, capable of such great lengths…?” He slithers out of the way, and there, situated right in front of her, is a camera. Bright lights turn on, making her wince.
“You have yourself a captive audience. Just give them a little speech. Let them stare deep into those beautiful eyes of yours, and let them be lost in the persuavisve power they hold. Then, everything will be alright. Yo uwon’t be hiding anymore. YOu won’t have to lose your precious boyfriend, and we’ll all get exactly what we’ve always wanted.”
“I… I want love…”
He grabs Arya by the throat, and as he does, the music gets louder. “ARe you even listening to yourself? You are an unwanted child, sired by a heartless killer. You are a heartless killer, raised by the brother of the girl harmed by that freak! Why should you get a chance to be loved, unless you prove to everyone that you deserve it by talking to them, by begging for their forgiveness, and telling them how pathetic their own sad lives are?”
“I already have friends…”
“The ones you haven’t mindfucked into catatonia are now fully inoculated, along with the rest of the sick degenerates that call this place their home. It’s all you, girl. You hate this place so much, you can now tell them to fuck off. You can now give them everything you’ve always wanted. You just need to let go… go with the flow.”
“Follow the river…”
“Do as I say”
“Listen to your heart.”
“Make them love you”
“Dance to your own music.”
“Listen to the way the wind blows.”
“Just act!”
Arya takes a deep breath and rubs her chin. “Can… can I at least get something to wear… to look presentable?”
“You got everything you need now, doll. No one will be able to take their eyes off of you. Now, go ahead, and give them something they’ll never forget.” He presses a button on his remote, and the recording light on the camera flashes on.
Arya stares at the camera, following the flow of the water, completely in the mercy of the way the river takes her. The world around her won’t change for her. The society, Uma, and even her Uncle. All of them are who they are, and she is who she is, a tool for him, the perfect little weapon, who is happy when she doesn’t try to do anything against him.
All she needs is to close herself off and to drift away, and just look to the others and let them all feel the wonders of the song.
Arya opens her mouth, and she speaks the words running through the screen. “Everyone. Welcome to this broadcast. I’m here to give you the answer to all of your ills. Please, hear my out, and listen.”
Her voice drones on and on, and throughout the world as she is broadcast live over television and over the net, people listen, and they watch. They all become entranced in the song and the rhythm of her voice. They cannot turn away. No one wants to, no one can.
And so, the whole of the world finds itself united under one song, one drum, a drum of the planet, a chant that tells them exactly what to be and how to be.
“But, every river has its rapids, and turns that no one can foresee. Perhaps, when you find yourself heading downriver, you’ll find your friends there waiting to pick you up at a location that is much safer than where you fell in.”